The Man in the Front Seat
by LikeMulderandScully
Summary: My first Bones story. Set early season 3. Case Fic structure... BB! What else? Art invades the lab as Angela brings in an old friend to help with a case that Tempe didn't even want in the first place, and Booth's gut wins again. **On Hiatus**
1. In which Booth abducts his partner

A Bones case- style fic… I'll let you see for yourself what it is about… some BB of course.

Disclaimer: I own nothing but my laptop and my imagination.

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"Booth!" The slender auburn haired scientist yelled, turning around for the third time since her handsome partner had yet again abducted her from the remains she had been working on. He grasped her shoulders and spun her around like he did every time she pulled away and headed back inside.

"Bones…" he said warningly as he led her outside yet again. "Booth! I demand you tell me exactly where I'm going or I refuse to get in the car!"

"But that's the thing Bones, you would refuse to come anyways if I _did _tell you where we were headed. And you do _have_ to come, so I'd rather you come without a fuss."

"If I knew where we were going I wouldn't make a fuss."

"But you wouldn't be going if I told you."

"But I also wouldn't be making a fuss."

"This conversation is starting to remind me of the Indy 500"

"I don't know what that means."

"Come on Bones." He pleaded as the mid-morning sun shone into the parking garage behind him, lighting up his partners adorable, scrunched-up, 'Booth is being impossible' face. It was one of his favorites, and whenever it showed up he always forgot to stay annoyed with her.

" Fine. But if I'm unprepared, I'm blaming you."

"Agreed." finished Booth with an unforced smile as he ushered her into the passenger's seat of his big black SUV. As he climbed in and started the engine, Brennan tapped him on the shoulder and asked calmly "Now that I am in the car, restrained" motioning to the seat belt "and considering that you know that I know it would be very unwise for me to jump from a moving vehicle… will you tell me about the case?"

"I'd love to Bones," he said charmingly. "We are headed to rural Virginia. Two years ago a white van was stolen from Maryland just outside D.C., and was found yesterday at the bottom of a steep hill on the side of a highway in Loudon County…"

"And you need me because there is a body in the car?" She finished for him.

"Nope, 'cause there's a robot in the backseat."

"Really?"

"No."

Brennan smiled to herself, "I didn't think so, and you were right, I probably wouldn't have come if you had told me."

"You would have said" raising his voice to a slightly southern falsetto " But Booth, I cannot possibly go galavanting off to Virginia right now, I have other more science-y things to do than identify skeletonized collision victims. Have them send the body here and I'll take a look tomorrow'; which by the way Bones, is an interesting thing I've noticed about you, you're very dependable but only on your own terms."

Her face was now a full-blown smile "I guess that's true. And you did not really just use the word 'science-y'."

She and Booth fell into comfortable silence for the rest of the trip, aside from the occasional radio station change when they would laugh and banter about the ridiculous choices one is reduced to in rural areas, basically country, fuzzy country, and country that fades in and out.

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Interested yet? Tell me what you think, and you'll get another chapter. Unless you don't like it… then you won't.


	2. In which they reach the crime scene

Short addition to the last chapter… a chaplet if you will…

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They soon reached a stretch of highway that led up into the Appalachians with many steep grades and guardrails. The yellow crime scene tape was hardly visible from the road, and Brennan now understood why it had taken two years for anyone to notice the van. At first observation she concluded that the driver had driven off the highway at a slower than normal speed, probably because it was on the outside curve of a turn.

The body was mostly skeletonized, male, Caucasian, mid-to late twenties, and in pretty normal condition considering that he had driven off, what was essentially, a cliff. The clothing had partially decomposed, but the fake leather boots looked like he could have just put them on yesterday. The back of the van had nothing in it but a few rusty tools like pliers, a set of what looked like janitors keys, and a bunch of leaves, dirt and organic matter.

She took it all in, walking slowly around the van and peering through the windshield, and after a moment she said "Why am I needed here Booth? This is obviously the car thief, and he doesn't really need to be I.D.ed does he?" speaking softly so that the Virginia cops around them wouldn't hear

"The county sheriff would really like him to be I.D.ed as a Maryland resident, so that this accident doesn't reflect in the statistics on Virginia's drivers. And I volunteered us for the case because I think there is more to this one than it seems."

"Do you have any evidence supporting your 'more to it' theory?"

"Nope, just a feeling"

"It's always that way with you." Observed Brennan in a faraway voice as she surveyed the wreck.

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Write me a review and you will have lovely dreams including the 'Bones' character of your choice… personally I would choose Booth… but you can have Hodgins if you want.


	3. In which our heroes argue again

"Cause of death was a cervical fracture on the front and back of C-3 and C-4. It nearly severed the spinal cord and death was instantaneous." Grad student turned- Jeffersonian scientist Zach Addy explained to Booth after an hour or two back at the lab. Brennan continued "What is not yet apparent is why the neck injury was so severe, the stress in the muscles of the neck from the adrenaline of the car accident usually keeps this kind of thing from happening…" she trailed off. Booth waited a moment in bemused silence at his partner's all-consuming concentration before tapping her lightly on the shoulder. She flinched a little and continued.

"Dental records indicate that he is Steven Anthony Wren, 27, Caucasian, and an unspectacular car thief from east Baltimore." "The remains can be released now, his I.D. and cause of death were all I needed to close the case, and your sheriff friend can be satisfied that this 'statistic' will not reflect badly upon Virginia's drivers."

"Bones, remember my 'I think there's more' comment? That still stands."

"I cannot see where there could be a place for doubt, Booth."

"Why would a seasoned car thief steal a large, ugly white van unless he had something to haul Bones?" "He was experienced, he could have just as easily stolen a Aston Martin DB7 if he wanted!" At this point Zach left them alone because even with his lack of social skills he had learned to clear the room when his colleague began to get angry with Booth.

"Booth! You are making up stories like you always do, disregarding the evidence; there is no reason to think there is more to this story. And I DON'T KNOW WHAT THAT MEANS!" She shouted at him and stalked off to her office. He gave her a moment and then followed after her, finding his partner furiously typing a case report on her computer. He watched as realization crossed her features and her typing slowed, until she stopped and turned her head around, presumably to see if he had gone.

"Booth I'm…" she murmured with a look that Booth couldn't quite place and then turned away.

"It's fine Bones, I think I've been a little pushy today. But you have to trust me. I have a gut sense about some cases and it has been right more than a few times." He stepped over to her desk and leaned in as if he was going to tell her a secret. She looked back around into his face. "It's all about trust Bones, you have to trust in other people. You trust Hodgins with the bugs and Angela with the art, and Cam with the bloody and diseased people parts, can't you trust my stories and my instinct too?" Brennan finally met his gaze, and couldn't look away; his brown eyes had a sort of hold on her. "I'm not asking you to disregard the evidence, just to listen to something other than pure undiluted reason." He leaned even closer and sighed, "You have seen me solve cases using my instinct before, can you trust me again?" Here she broke his gaze, thought for a moment and then began to smile.

"Yes Booth, I guess it can't hurt to get more evidence supporting MY conclusion…" laughing at his mock-offended expression she went on more seriously "… Just kidding Booth, I'm sorry about before. I know I can trust you with the case. Go ahead."

He gave her a big charm smile. "Thanks Bones, I'll get Hodgins working on the truck, call me if any 'evidence' shows up."


	4. In which Hodgins is puzzled by dirt

Guess who had a class canceled today and three hours of free time? Yup, so here's the next exciting installment…

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A few minutes later Booth sought out the resident bug and slime guy for help. "Hey Hodgins! What're you working on?"

"In layman's terms…" the curly haired entomologist considered for a second "Nope it's still confusing that way. So what can I do for you Booth? I heard Brennan's half of your 'debate', I don't think I've ever seen her that frustrated at you, which is saying a lot Man."

"We didn't quite see eye-to-eye on the case, but that's what I want to ask you about. You know about the car thief case right?"

"Yea. Seems like there'd be more to it."

"Exactly, so if you could… do whatever it is you do to the back of the truck."

"Sure."

Hodgins had the van brought into the lab and set it up in a large vacant corner near his small office. He spent a few minutes just observing the interior with a confused look on his face. Zach, who was working on the victim's cervical vertebrate x-rays noticed this and since he had never seen Hodgins confused about dirt, headed over.

"Hey Hodgins, is something wrong? You seem to be exhibiting a loss of orientation consistent with a confused or perplexed individual." Zach inquired worriedly.

He replied laughing "You act like I just fainted or had a seizure Zach. I'm just trying to figure out any possible reasons that no Gramineae Poaceae or Trifolium hybridum [Grass showed up in the two years even with all the organic decomposing materials."

"Possibly something else in the decomposing materials prevented the formation of any flora." Zach mused. They proceeded to take small samples from the 'dirt' in the back of the van and discovered many different toxic chemicals. At which point Brennan came over to see what they were or weren't discovering.

"I haven't disturbed much of the soil yet, I merely took enough from the edges for chemical analysis" "We've finished testing for inorganic substances and found, disturbingly enough; Titanium, Cadmium, Phthalocyanine, Cobalt Chromite, Arylide, and Carbazole dioxazine in every soil sample which would explain why nothing could grow in it." Hodgins explained. "I know I've seen this sequence of chemicals before I just can't place where."

Zach's attention was drawn to the large flat computer monitor on Jack's desk. "The organic results are up on the computer Hodgins."

"Awesome" Hodgins breathed after taking a look. "That's why it looked so familiar." "And it definitely explains the cellulose covered in charcoal that I can see on top of some of the leaves."

"What does?" Brennan asked impatiently.

"There is an abundance of Linum usitatissimum in the soil as well as those chemicals I mentioned, and Linum usitatissimum, essentially flax, is used in Linseed Oil."

Based on the changes in the looks on their faces; Brennan understood, Zach however, was still lost.

"Angela." The two scientists said at the same time and Zach's confusion increased even more. Noticing this Hodgins smiled and explained, " If you have ever been to Angela's apartment, you would understand. Linseed oil is most commonly used in oil paint."

"Oh. Got it."

"Wait Hodgins, How would it get there?" Zach asked as Brennan wondered aloud "Our car thief is a painter?"

"No, but I've got an idea which could make this case really fun." Said Hodgins while pulling on a pair of latex gloves and sterile boots. He proceeded to jump inside the rusted old van and started rummaging around in the leaves carefully extracting the clumps of cellulose from several different levels and handing them to Zach. He pulled back for a moment, then stuck his arm into one particular part of the leaves near the right side of the van's large back cabin. With a shout of triumph he came away with a wooden frame, then after another minute a folded piece of dirty canvas. He carefully carried it over to the video microscope and unfolded it.

"This is so cool. The rust from the dampness eroded the staples keeping it attached to the stretcher and it was probably blown by the wind s that it ended up folding over, and except for the fold is in really good condition. Dirty, but otherwise ok."

"The bugs and animals stayed away from the toxins seeping from the oil paint as it decomposed. It basically lost the varnish that kept the paint from coming off the canvas in the first place… although I'm not sure this was the situation the artist had in mind when he decided to varnish it in the first place."

Brennan and Zach were speechless. "It… It… It's a painting." They both stuttered. As they examined it under magnification on the flat screen monitor, a voice came from behind them.

" That had better be a reproduction or somebody is gonna get shot."


	5. In which the squints meet another artist

" _That had better be a reproduction or somebody is gonna get shot."_

"What?" the confused and startled scientists exclaimed and turned around to find Angela smirking at a shorter, attractive brunette wearing fashionable black framed glasses over big blue eyes and a slightly annoyed looking face.

"Hey guys, this is Dr. Octavia James a professor at Oxford and an old friend who is visiting for a few weeks. And sweetie," Angela said looking at Brennan; "to answer that question written on your face she's a PhD. in Art History."

"Yes." The brunette continued looking around at the squints. "You must be Dr. Brennan, the best friend; Dr. Hodgins, the fiancé; and Dr. Addy, the genius. Ange has told me so much about you, and by the way, please call me Via, She…" tossing a look at Angela "…gets a kick out of introducing me to people as a 'Dr. Octavia.' She likes the Spiderman 2 reference."

"I don't know what that means."

"Well…" Via began again after smiling a little at Brennan's lack of pop culture knowledge. "As I was saying, well threatening, before; where did you guys acquire this? From what I can see it is either a nearly flawless reproduction, or… well something that might make me a little angry." "What do you mean?" inquired Brennan "I'd love the help of your expertise."

"If this is what I think it is, it is Van Gogh's 'Le Moulin a Poivre', painted in 1887; missing since 2005 when it and another Van Gogh painting as well as several of his drawings and letters were stolen from the National Gallery here in D.C."

"And you think this is it?" questioned Hodgins incredulously.

"Based on the accuracy of the signature and the condition of the canvas I'd say so." "19th century French and British art is my specialty, I did my dissertation on the influence of French Impressionism on the Fauves. They…"

"Oh my Gosh! I remember that! They never found the paintings." "They were stolen just before the exhibit opened to the public, so the museum couldn't do anything about it at the time. I went to the exhibit a few weeks later." Angela broke in before Via got too far into "the Favues" for the millionth time.

"And that's the really interesting thing about the theft," Via explained "the exhibit they were stolen from wasn't Van Gogh specific it was actually centered on one of his peers, Henri de Toulouse-Latrec. For that reason, most of the art community, myself included, thinks that it was an inside job. I just never expected to see one of them here covered in dirt and leaves under a microscope."

"Dr. Brennan you might want to…" Hodgins began.

But Brennan had already pulled out her cell and speed-dialed Booth "Hey Booth, you should really get back over here. I've got some 'evidence' for you to see."

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Double extra points and 20 gold stars for anyone who knows why the 'Spiderman 2' reference is particularly ironic…

Also, I'm thinking of doing another case fic where Booth and the squints meet a college-age girl, a fan of Brennan, and she helps Angela get them together… any thoughts?


	6. In which I stop writing silly titles

This chapter is the longest yet… I kind of didn't know where to end it, but my confusion is your gain… enjoy!

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Booth arrived several minutes later with a smug 'I was So Right' look plastered on his face. "Oh Boooones…" He trilled happily. The look quickly turned into his patented charm smile as he spotted Via up on the platform "So Bones, you've added another squint to the squad I see."

"No I haven't either she is just helping with this particular case."

"If it looks like a squint and dresses like a squint, Bones, what else am I supposed to think?"

"You shouldn't jump to conclusions, though that habit has already proven hard to manage on this case."

"But I was right wasn't I?" stepping closer and closer to Brennan, who didn't move an inch. "You found something," stepping closer "then it's a good habit," stopping four inches or so from her face with a soft " so there."

After a minute, Angela introduced Booth to Via, who smiled at the bickering between her new colleagues remembering what Ange had told her about their 'partnership'. From what she had seen in Dr. Brennan's eyes when Agent Booth entered her personal space, she figured that it was only a matter of time until Angela won her long-standing bet with Dr. Addy and Hodgins.

"So what did you find Bones?"

"_Hodgins _found this." pointing to the canvas "And Via identified it as a painting by Vincent Van Gogh, stolen from the National Gallery in 2005."

"What did I tell you Bones, he definitely had something to haul."

"Fine, you were completely correct Booth, and I was wrong." "Happy now?"

"Ecstatic. Thanks; now let's get down to business." He turned to Via, "was anything else stolen at the same time?"

"One other painting, _Agostina Segatori sitting in the Café du Tambourin,_ several of his letters written during his time in Montmartre, France; and three drawings of the same place. They were all in the same exhibit in the East Building and Mezzanine of the museum under lowered security because the exhibit was only available to VIP's and was still being finalized by the curators. Nothing else was stolen."

"So security was breached?"

"During dinner hour, but they found evidence suggesting that the paintings were still in the museum until it closed at 10. The curators didn't even notice until they were doing a final walk-through the next day, because the exhibit was so large."

"Thanks Via." "I'm glad you were here, otherwise we would have had to search for the case file."

"Ok Bones, let's go interview those curators."

"One of them was my thesis advisor Dr. Coman; she'll be able to tell you the most," Via added, trying to be as helpful as possible. "cause in addition to being the Assistant curator of French paintings, she is the museum's resident gossip."

Booth nodded to Brennan with a knowing grin, "and that'd be where we start."

"So that's them." Via said turning to Angela as the partners left and the squints scattered to various offices and workrooms. "You've noticed the hand I suppose." she reflected as they walked toward the artist's office.

"Yea. That's my biggest piece of 'evidence' for Bren."

She nodded. Angela had already told her that because of Dr. Brennan's tendency to make everything scientific and logical, she had been collecting objective 'evidence' to show Brennan how much she was missing or giving up in her relationship with Booth; and how, subconsciously, she really did want to be with him. And now, seeing it first-hand, the fact that he perpetually kept his hand at the small of her back was particularly telling. Especially the fact that she let him.

"How do they not see it?"

"Booth does, I'm sure of it, but he drew a 'line' and being a gentleman, he won't cross it until she wants to. Brennan however, never seems to actually recognize anything other than their sexual attraction, which she romantically attributes to his being an 'ideal adult alpha-male specimen with symmetrical features'."

"Ugh, really? That's so awful, and hilarious at the same time. Do you think that their 'couples' therapy will help?"

"Dr. Gordon did what he could to keep them from killing each other, but he also didn't help them along much. Last year he had a perfect opportunity to tell them, right after Agent Sullivan left, remember that email?"

Via grinned. "Very well in fact, it took me almost an hour to decipher from all of the ramblings, capitalized squeals, typos and Shakespearean quotes."

Angela giggled. "I think that's as close as Bren ever came to figuring out that Booth is head over heels for her. But she let it go because Gordon convinced the two of them that she didn't leave because she 'needs purpose'… I'm not sure about their new therapist though, Dr. Sweets, I haven't met him yet."

"But Angela, Love is a purpose. It's what people live for. To love and to be loved is the single greatest lesson you can learn."

"Ooh Via, I'm so using that in my evidence. Even if it wasn't a direct quote, I'm still positive that Tempe has never seen _Moulin Rouge_." Angela laughed.

"I really thought you were exaggerating about the pop-cultureless ness, but apparently not. Oh hey Ange," Via said drawing Angela's attention back to the computers in front of them, "the scanner is finished with the pre-scan, we should start cleaning and restoring."

"My favorite thing besides matchmaking."

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Soon after, Booth and Brennan sat in an extremely messy, but very artistic looking office. The grey-haired bohemian searching through a bright blue file cabinet before them was Dr. Florence E. Coman, the assistant director of French paintings at the National Gallery of Art. She finally paused in her search with an exalted "Aha!"

"Here it is. This is the file of everything we have on that particular exhibit, even the police report and the evidence we received back just this year after the D.C. police and the private investigators we hired determined hat the case was unsolvable."

Brennan accepted the large and heavy file folders from the vivacious looking older woman. Her arms nearly buckled with the unexpected weight, much heavier than it looked.

"So with all of this evidence, there still weren't any leads?" she inquired, regaining what was left of her composure and setting a few of the files on the floor.

"I'm afraid not, there were no fingerprints, no real trace evidence, and no video footage because the particular V.I.P visitors that afternoon had personal guards and did not 'appreciate' video footage being shot of them, so we agreed to turn the cameras in that exhibit off that day. They were of course questioned after the theft, but their bodyguards and several witnesses account for them elsewhere."

"There was no trace evidence at all?" Brennan mused aloud as she started to rummage through the first massive file. Dr. Coman turned to Booth.

"Might I inquire why the FBI is again interested in this case?"

"We can't release information about ongoing investigations, but it'd be ok to tell you that an artifact has been recovered from a crime scene that directly relates to this robbery."

"You've found them?! That's incredible! If what you've found is in fact the real deal, the art community will owe you two a great deal."

"Actually, one of your former Grad students is authenticating the find along with our forensic artist."

"That would be Via, I assume. She was always the best. And would probably be the only one who would know a great deal about the theft. She visited me only days after...", Dr. Coman looked out the window as if she was a bit nervous. "Have you talked to Dr. Flendsten yet?"

Brennan finally looked up, curiosity obvious in her blue eyes. "No, Via only gave us your name."

"Well, he'd be the next to talk to… he was the one who discovered the missing art."

"Thanks for your help Dr., we'll be in touch." Booth said as he motioned to Brennan. She quickly got up and shook Dr. Coman's hand, adding cordially "This evidence will be very beneficial. Thank you."

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The partners found themselves walking through the museum with directions to Dr. Peter Flendsten's office written on a notepad featuring the _Mona Lisa_ in all her glory.

"I think its this way" motioned Booth to the left.

"But the directions say right at the Vermeer portraits."

"But the office number is odd, the ones down there are even."

"But the directions…"

"Were written very quickly by a woman who can't find the evidence folders for the biggest theft this museum has had in years without psychic powers."

"Dr. Coman has worked at this museum for years, and I'm going this way with or without you." Brennan said pointing right.

"Fine. We'll see who gets there first."

About twenty minutes later Booth stumbled back across the Vermeer portraits and finally decided to turn right. He soon found door #323A nestled amongst all of the even offices in the east hallway.

"Crap. There will be no living with her after this" He thought, knocking on the door slightly.

"Come in." boomed an unfamiliar voice.

Booth opened the door to a spotless, mahogany covered office with a smiling white-haired man, sitting in an enormous red leather chair. He wasn't an old looking, he looked quite strong and capable despite his age, probably about 65. Brennan sat across from his desk smiling wickedly at him as he walked in and sat down in the low-backed wooden chair that was the pair to hers. She made the necessary introductions and then looked at Booth with eyes that clearly said: _'We neeeeed to get out of here right now. I have something to tell you._' as her mouth said, "We were just finishing our meeting Booth, but do you have any questions for Dr. Flendsten?"

"I'm sure you covered it all Bones. It was nice to meet you Dr." He quickly replied, standing and shaking the curator's hand as he and Brennan left.

"What was that?! You nearly picked me up and threw me out of that office" Booth asked eagerly when they had reached the pavement outside.

"Booth, there's absolutely no way I could throw someone of your stature and mass, let alone pick you up."

"Not the point Bones." He groaned "What did he say to make you want out of there so fast, he seemed nice right?"

"He was very pleasant, but he said some things… well I don't really know much about this sort of thing, but it seemed from the way that he talks about Dr. Coman that he considers her personally responsible for the theft."

"Why? What did he say specifically about her?"

"Well he told me the same general information that we got from Dr. Coman, but he added that 'The security detail was to be doubled while the V.I.P's were visiting, but because I was out of the museum that day of course it was never taken care of'; and also that Dr. Coman was 'never as responsible as her past would suggest she would have to be.' What do you think this means Booth? You're the interpretive one."

"I think it means we need to look up Dr. Coman, and ask Angela's friend some more questions about her career, she'd probably know being a former student."

"That's logical, I knew a lot more than I really cared to know about my thesis advisor."

"But first Bones, we're going to go check out Wren's oldest buddy…" glancing down at the file and looking back up with a smirk."… Big George, who is currently in jail for; what a surprise, armed robbery and stealing high-end cars."

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Reviews would be awesome... write anything you please, you could comment on just how hot Booth is, your favorite Bones Halloween costume, or what you had for breakfast… I'm not picky.


	7. Chapter 7

Sorry about the wait, I'm ridiculously busy but I'll try to have another chapter done before Thanksgiving! Here's a little something to keep you interested 'till then.

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"If it's all the same to you Booth I really don't think that he had the intelligence or skills to pull off that delicate of a theft and escape unnoticed." Brennan said as she and Booth exited the FBI interrogation room and entered the observation room next door. Looking through the one-way mirror at the rotund inmate and sighing she added "It would take a lot to convince me that he knew much about art at all, much less how to steal it."

"You've got it right there Bones. Somebody would definitely have noticed him walking around with a painting or two under his arm."

They headed back to his office and found the background check on Florence Elison Coman that Booth had requested.

"Booth, it says our thesis advisor with the messy office has had some run-ins with museum security on several occasions, in college and grad school she was escorted from several exhibits for disruption and lack of general decorum, along with an official reprimand from the National Gallery in 1975 for destruction of property."

"Bones, that's probably nothing. She was in college, being a college kid; this Dr. Flendsten guy probably just doesn't like her on principle. She is a mess after all."

Taking the offered folder and skimming it he sighed wearily, "I was right. There's nothing here Bones, we're right back at square one."

Brennan's phone beeped and she took a quick look at the message that filled the screen. "Maybe not Booth, Zach just messaged me that he made a significant discovery."

"Alright squints! Let's roll Bones."

They arrived at the Jeffersonian ten minutes later, where an excited Jack and Zack practically leapt at them through the glass doors, with Cam following a few steps behind.

"I cleaned the bones, and there wasn't any evidence of foul play on the surface of the bones. The severity of the fractures still weren't explained, but it looked for a minute as if he really did just drive off the hill. Even though logically that conclusion makes no sense."

"Why not?"

Hodgins answered for the lanky anthropologist "Because I have confirmed that there was only one painting in the back of that van. Two paintings were stolen, leaving us with the question of where that other painting is."

"And?" Booth's patience with the squints method of relating evidence was wearing thin.

Cam "And this is where I come in. I did a full tox screen on our victim and found; along with some commercial alcohol levels consistent with whiskey, that he was dosed with Baclofen shortly before his death. Baclofen is a muscle relaxant that inhibits neural function presynaptically and thereby reducing the release of excitatory neurotransmitters in both the brain and spinal cord."

Brennan's face lit up with insight as Booth's contorted in confusion. "English people, speak English!"

"Booth, that drug explains why Wren's neck fractured so severely; the drug causes the muscles to relax so that upon impact there was no resistance in the neck and it snapped nearly in half."

"Dr. Brennan, this also means that our killer wasn't in it to cause pain to Wren, because Baclofen also reduces pain, it's basically a paralytic." added Cam.

Booth was satisfied enough with the explanation to move on. "Ok, so who would have access to that drug?"

"Patients diagnosed with spastic diplegia, multiple sclerosis, ALS or trigeminal neuralgia; or anyone who has access to a hospital pharmacy"

"Ok Bones, you get a list of all the people with those diseases and people who work in area hospitals, and I'll get an employment list for the museum. Hopefully we'll get a match."

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Reviews make me happy, and when I am happy I write more! It's a win-win.


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